


fire on fire

by redledgers



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/F, Not Canon Compliant, Oral Sex, Post Season 5B, Season/Series 04, Sexual Content, Vaginal Fingering, fun sexy times for fun sexy ladies, there's a strap on somewhere in there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-19 12:21:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29874597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redledgers/pseuds/redledgers
Summary: and maze thinks about all the ways she could take eve apartuntil one time she actually can
Relationships: Eve/Mazikeen (Lucifer TV)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	fire on fire

**Author's Note:**

> shoutout to thewillowbends for being my second set of eyes on this. you're a real one!

_Oh,_ she _likes_ her. 

Maze takes in the hot little number in front of her a second time without a shred of shame. _The things I would do to you,_ she thinks, following the seam of leather and skin, the curve of a self assured smile. She’s a well kept secret in a leather corset that Maze wants to pry open and see what makes up her very being. She likes her _very_ much.  
  
“I’m Eve,” she says, and Maze is _gone_.

  
  


**I.**

The whip looks glorious curled around Eve’s calf, the susurrus of braided leather leaving a mark on her skin as it slithers away and falls limp on the bed. Her red corset and tight skirt have already been abandoned, scattered up the steps leading to Lucifer’s glorious bed. That is where her control had ended, and now she squirms on soft sheets and meets Maze’s heated gaze.

“What do you say?” Maze asks. She cocks her head and waits for Eve to decide. But really, what choice is there to be had when she is at Maze’s mercy? 

Eve has learned how to play this game, a quick study in sex and seduction, and she stretches against the bindings that hold her in place. She’s not yet been taken apart, not in the way Maze wants, so she only offers a smirk before Maze trails the length of the whip down her thigh.

“Speak up,” Maze says then, snapping the whip at the end of the mattress. It cuts through the sheets, but she doesn’t care. 

Eve only shakes her head.

For a while, the only noises are the click of Maze’s boots against marble, the shifting of sheets, and the muffled sound of the city below. She coils the whip as she paces. If Eve wishes to wait, then wait she will. It stretches from seconds to minutes, building until it feels like hours before Eve whispers, _“Mazikeen.”_

Maze steps to the edge of the bed. “Yes?”

Eve pushes her hips up as best she can and whines. “Come _on_.”

Maze drops the whip between her legs and slowly drags the thick line of it across Eve’s cunt. She admires the way her muscles flex and shift as she tries to get more friction. “Is this what you wanted?”

 _“Yes.”_ Eve squirms exactly the way Maze imagined she would. She is soft skin and iron will, the first of the stardust and the last of the blameless.

But she did not ask for more, and so Maze does not give her more.

**II.**

“Let’s practice on me.” And _oh_ it was said so innocently, but that is where the line of innocence had ended because they’re pressed so close, and Eve’s cunt is slick against her fingers. In the shifting lights of the club, their movement could be an illusion, but the way Eve’s breath quickens against her lips is most certainly not.

“Careful,” Maze says, scraping her teeth across Eve’s jaw after she breaks from their kiss. She slips one finger into tight heat and watches the way Eve struggles to keep her face neutral. How Maze wants to watch her face scrunch, to watch her fall apart from the touch of hands carved from steel and stone. And she will, at least on one count.

Eve’s head drops to the side and her eyes flutter closed for the briefest of moments as Maze presses a second in and bares her thumb against her clit. “Fuck,” she whines, and Maze doesn’t miss the way she grabs the edge of the leather booth.

Maze lets out a growl. “They’re looking,” she says, though she’s not even sure if that’s a lie. It doesn’t matter, though. Eve’s staring at her now, worrying her bottom lip as she moves her hips in the most minute of ways to meet the thrust of Maze’s fingers.

“Let them,” she replies, though it is the last thing she says before she shoves the meat of her palm between her teeth, the perfect fruit to silence a moan that Maze so desperately wishes to hear over the pounding music. 

Instead, she slides her fingers free and wipes them on the hem of Eve’s short red dress once she has settled against the booth. She is rewarded with an easy smile from lips that taste like apples and nectar. Maze finds herself returning it. “What was that about sex on the first date?” 

Eve’s smile turns to laughter, and she buries it in Maze’s shoulder.

  
  


**III.**

Eve changes in the en suite, as if the outfit they bought together would be a surprise even though Maze had already imagined it on her from the moment Eve touched the fabric. “What do you think?” she asks when she steps out, twirling for the full appraisal. 

“It’s… it looks good.” It looks more than good. Maze wants to run her teeth over Eve’s exposed shoulder, find out if her hands fit past the waistline of tight red pants. This was a mistake, except maybe it’s not. 

Eve produces one of her karambits, tugged free from Maze’s person without detection. She holds it just shy of Maze’s neck, wide eyes suddenly not so innocent anymore. “What about this?”

“Careful,” Maze warns. She can feel the cool metal even with distance, a counterpoint to the warmth rising in her body.

“I know you will be.” Eve presses the knife into her hand. The snake and the offering, and all Maze has to say is _yes._

The new clothes are soon forgotten, fallen to the floor of Linda’s guest bedroom beside two curved blades, and Eve is sprawled beneath her, chasing the taste of iron and steel on her tongue. Sharp edges abandoned in favor of leather straps and toys, and how freeing it is, Maze thinks, to take what she wants and give in return. 

She tastes salt on soft skin and covers every inch of what Eve offers with her hands until she presses into tight heat and feels the arch of Eve’s body against hers. Her hips set a rhythm, the only music she knows. There is nowhere they need to be, not really.

They have time. 

  
  


**IV.**

Her mask was the first thing to go, lost somewhere in the hallway behind the curtain. They’ll pick it up later, Maze thinks, when they are no longer drunk on each other. The dress falls in the doorway of the wine cellar, and Eve’s lips are insistent on hers, eager to taste a song, a confession, if only Maze would say it one more time.

Maze fills her hands with skin softer than she could imagine, mapping the curve of Eve’s spine until the first temptress pulls away to catch her breath. “You’re wearing too much,” she says, smile like the curve of an apple slice. 

“Not yet.” Maze pushes her against the glass cabinet that houses the most expensive wines and drops to her knees.

“Oh,” Eve says. Her thick hair spills over her breasts as she looks down to meet Maze’s eyes. The lace that covers Eve’s cunt is the last sacred barrier, and Maze tugs it down with her teeth with all the reverence left in her. But she has bared her soul enough tonight, and now it is Eve’s turn. 

The salt-sweet taste of her is more home than sulfur and ash, and Maze traces promises with her tongue just to hear Eve sing. The world falls away around them, the crescendo of music in Lux nothing but a part of a symphony that Maze would listen to any day. Still, Eve is gentle as she scrabbles for purchase, one hand leaving streaked prints on the glass while the other rests atop Maze’s head just to know the feel of her.

Only when Maze growls does Eve come, her pleasure tipped over an edge sharper than a knife. Maze doesn’t care that the glass cracks, shallow fractures of pleasure. Maze gathers Eve up when she drops to kiss the taste of herself from Maze’s tongue. “Enough grand gestures,” Eve says, licking her teeth. “Let’s go.”

  
  


**V.**

If she closes her eyes, Eve is beside her, sighing sweetly as Maze presses kisses down her neck, scraping teeth and tongue against soft skin, tasting the fruit that had been forbidden for far too long. She isn’t a world away, her voice muffled by a shitty phone with a shitty connection. But if she leaves them open, she imagines the way Eve touches herself, guided by a star map of her own creation, urged on by the tongue of a cursed eldest daughter.

“I miss you,” Eve says, voice shaking. Maze wonders how many fingers she’s pressed inside herself, but she doesn’t want to ruin this moment. 

“I’m here,” Maze replies. Her own hands are busy as she drinks in every noise on the other end. Because she knows now that Eve is loud, that Eve has no shame in taking the pleasures that delight her most. She stretches across the mattress, fingers working her clit as Eve whimpers. She’s so close, so close, flames licking at her skin and burning along the lines of her body. “I want you to come. _Please,_ Eve.”

And Eve does, voice breaking as she catches the high, and Maze follows after, tumbling into the depths of an inferno she never wants to end. She hears Eve in her ear, breathy and low, saying “That’s right, Maze. You’re so good.”

When they settle together, in beds a world apart, Maze lets the silence seep into her body. It stretches from seconds to minutes, building until it feels like hours before Eve whispers, “I’ll see you soon?”

And Maze prays.

  
  


**coda.**

A thousand years in Hell could do nothing to wash away the taste of Eve’s chapstick on her tongue, Maze thinks. Unlike their first kiss, she knows where to put her hands now, sliding them down Eve’s back to settle on her hips. And Eve is busy too, perched on her lap. Her hips roll languidly and her own hands slide under Maze’s shirt to press against hell-forged skin. 

“I missed you,” Eve says, breath ghosting across Maze’s lips. Her words are like stardust, and Maze knows that’s what she is at her core, for all the times she has rebuilt herself in the fire of someone else’s desire.

“Show me, then,” Maze replies, because they have been kissing for what feels like hours, learning the shape of each other in all the ways Maze imagined since she set eyes on the seam of leather and skin, the curve of a self-assured smile. 

The bed isn’t far away, and in the space between, they shed their clothes, leaving them to fall to the floor beside two curved blades. Eve is soft beneath her, but she is not waiting any longer, pressing her fingers to Maze’s clit, offering a smirk as she does. “Is this what you wanted?

“Shit.” Maze pushes against Eve and leans in for a kiss that’s more teeth than tongue. She had plans. _The things I’ll do to you,_ she had thought when she saw the boarding pass. _The things you’ve done to me._ But they’re all gone as Eve fingers her over an edge she barely saw coming. Maze feels the inferno engulf her, and she buries her face in Eve’s shoulder until she can breathe again. She wants to taste her, lick honey from her lips and brine from between her legs. She wants to tie her up and watch her beg, wants to sing to her until she has no voice left. Wants to hear her laughter as they find their footing. Wants Eve to pry her open and learn what makes up her very being. 

Maze _wants,_ and it burns deep within her.

But they have time.

**Author's Note:**

> (each scene fits into/between different episodes of s4)


End file.
